To Daniel Brick - I Poem by Emmanuel George Cefai

Fellow worker in the fields
where the Muse trains us
in the war of verse.
For verse must softly war
on many things,
on many mores, prejudices
and more.

The Poet Seer ever sad
works slow; and
suffering
looms in his eyes
as he bent rises from
the arched back of work.

Yet the Poet Seer
gives life the meaning
to our each very breath
at times in magic and
to magic, as he sings, rises.

He (including she and they) has to.
And
Your verse to this be witness
and more yet deserves.
You tell me Master.
I reciprocate; and all the things
you said of me
made me more humble
in my sacred work.
Continue, Master, in your noble work.
A sacred duty that we
both fulfill.
A sacred fire that we
kindle both.